Page 162 of Loving the Legend
“He’s averaged 31.4 points per game, not 30.”
“My bad,” he says, bunching his brows.
The urge to deck him has never been more attractive. I’d revel in watching him hit the floor. I’d stick out my face, encouraging him to get up and swing back just so that I can drop his ass again.
“Did Sid tell y’all that ESPN is doing a segment on us for the—” Arnaz continues.
Us. Ugh.
“I need a drink,” I interrupt, walking off.
I order a double neat of mezcal. I take a sip, and my eyes shudder as I breathe in Sid’s scent.
He leans against the bar, facing the room. “Are you okay?”
I clench the glass. “He’s the only one that had your back?”
He seems confused, and then his eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it that night. I’m sorry.”
My gaze pings Arnaz approaching us, and I grunt. The fucker can’t stay away.
“Got to find Idris.” I down my glass and stalk away.
I reach the staircase and hear, “Get the hell out of here!”
Jeff Banks. I’d know that voice from anywhere.
He pulls me into a bear hug. Jeff’s still one of my favorite people from college to face off against.
“I didn’t know your team was in town.”
He shakes his head. “Just me.I’m on Late Night with Tinathis week.”
“My manager keeps trying to get me to go on there.”
“I can talk to my agent if you need a connection,” he offers.
“Nah.” I wave it off. “They want me on the show, but I turned it down. It’s not my thing.”
He grins. “Same ol’ Ty. Hates the limelight. On your monk shit. I haven’t seen you at any of these parties ever.”
I shrug. “You know me. Married to the game. I’m getting too old for this—”
“Yeah, whatever! You look barely a day older than you did in college...same serious eyes, just more muscle. You’re a vampire or some shit.”
I grin. “How’s June and your boy?”
“Beautiful. He’s already trying to dribble. I’m heading out soon to catch a plane back. What about you?”
I can’t find the energy to lie. I can say I’m seeing someone without divulging details. “Yeah, actually. I’m—”
“Pardon me.”
Sid.His palm grazes my lower back as he slides past us with Arnaz.
“My bad,” I reply, stepping to the side.
“Those two are fucking, right? You can’t take a shit without seeing their faces,” Jeff says once they’re out of earshot.
